The Wizard's Heir (14 page)

Auriella didn’t want to dive into the pain, not when she was feeling more than she’d felt in years. But the need in Tybolt’s eyes was something she couldn’t deny.

“You don’t understand what happens when people desire someone they detest. It turns into cruelty so base…” She shuddered. “When I was growing up, it didn’t matter where I went—I was shouted at, grabbed, groped, spat on. They hated the Hunters for our immunity to wizards’ power, but they hated us more because our beauty stirred something in them they didn’t want to feel.”

Tybolt’s eyes had turned to flint, but she forced herself to continue. “We lived outside the walls, and my father went to town for us, to keep us safe from the men in the village, but many came looking for us. Shortly before the Fracture, my father was gone and a wizard came to the door. My mother—” Her voice cracked and she stopped.

Tybolt scooted closer and held out his arm, offering to hold her. “May I?”

Auriella’s whole body trembled. She wanted to, but…“I haven’t let a man touch me since
he
came, since he walked into—” She clamped her mouth shut.

The next thing she knew, Tybolt’s arms were around her. She stiffened, her heart pounding in her chest. He was so close she could smell him.

But then his lips were at her ear, whispering that it would be all right. His voice was soft and gentle, his breath tickling down her neck, and for the first time the intimacy didn’t make her nauseous.

And the words he whispered, she believed them. She had no reason to—nothing had ever been all right, not from the moment she came blinking into this cold, cruel world. But here with him, she could almost feel it, that thing she’d longed for without understanding it—happiness, and here with him it was beautiful. Her heart opened like a cracking and dusty door that had forgotten long ago how to open. She wanted to fill it up with something warm and wonderful, with Tybolt. She slowly stopped shaking and relaxed into him.

“Tell me about the wizard,” he said.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and inhaled deeply. He smelled of woods and leather with a hint of soap. He smelled of sunshine and fresh air and hope. She closed her eyes. “He came to pick up a bridle my father had been repairing in the blacksmith’s shop. My mother should’ve known better than to go out there, but the wizard wouldn’t stop shouting. I followed her. The wizard told her the bridle wasn’t done to satisfaction, and he wanted a refund.

“He didn’t want a refund. I could see it in his eyes. I was only ten, but I’d seen that look in more men’s eyes than I could count. He shoved my mother to the ground and crawled over her. Watching my mother there on the ground while he—” She gritted her teeth and grabbed a fistful of Tybolt’s shirt. “I was so angry. I found a poker in the fire and crept up behind him. My mother saw me. Our eyes met and I knew. I took that poker and I shoved it through his back. I was small, but I had my Hunter strength. My mother pushed the wizard backwards as I rammed the poker forward. It passed clean through his back and out his chest.”

“You killed him?”

“He stumbled out and headed towards the woods. Someone saw him leaving and alerted the king’s men. They followed the trail of blood, but the wizard’s body was never found.”

“But if you killed a wizard—”

“My mother took the blame. They hung her two days later.”

There was silence, and Auriella could feel Tybolt trembling. She could tell by the tension in his arms that it was not from cold.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For caring.” A deep weariness blanketed her. “I’m so tired.”

Tybolt pulled her closer. “Sleep then.” His voice cracked. “I’ll watch over you.”

“I don’t want to marry the king, Tybolt. I just want to live in peace.”

“Hush now.” He said it so gently she wondered for a moment if she was dreaming. Auriella breathed in deeply again, using his scent to chase away everything but sleep.

Tybolt spent the night listening to the ocean and feeling the rise and fall of Auriella’s breathing. In front of him, the sun warned of its arrival, coloring the sky ever so subtly. Tybolt cursed it and willed it back down—he wasn’t ready to lose this night. The light ignored him and broke the horizon. Rays of gold rushed across the water. The yellow tendrils enveloped the pieces of broken glass in the lantern frame of the lighthouse. For a moment it shone as it once had.

Auriella stirred and he looked down at her, desperate to take in how her eyelashes brushed her cheeks and the way her dark hair fell across his chest. She uncurled from him and stretched, yawning. He watched every movement—the way her fingers splayed out, how she rolled her head to one side. It was the sweetest sight he’d ever seen, and he was seized with a determination to see it every morning. There was only one way to make that happen.

“I have an idea,” Tybolt said.

Auriella pushed her hair out of her face and over her shoulders. “About what?”

“How to keep you from marrying the King. I think I can find Alistair.”

“Tybolt, I know you want to help, but we’ve all looked for years—”

“Would you agree that my source is reliable?”

“Yeeees,” she drug out. “But he’s never—”

“Last night he told me he knows where Alistair is.”

Auriella’s eyes grew wide. “Tybolt, that’s…that’s amazing! Is he sure?”

“He sounded sure, and if he’s right, the payment is forty pieces of gold. Enough to get you off this island.”

Auriella’s eyes gleamed for a second, but then she shook her head. “No. If the king learns what you did, he’ll come after you, he’ll—”

“For forty pieces of gold, I can get us both off the island, and your father.”

She hesitated. “You…you would do that for me?”

“Auriella.” He ran his fingers down her cheek and she didn’t flinch away. That alone was worth more than anything he’d ever possessed. “I meant what I said. I would do anything for you.”

“Tybolt.” She closed her eyes, leaning into his palm.

He thought his heart would explode with happiness. “What? What else do you need?”

“It’s not me, it’s the villagers. If you leave, what will happen to them?” She bit her lip, and tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. “They need you.”

He smiled. “You care about the people now?”

“You dragged me down there to see them, and I did.”

Tybolt sighed. “The first thing I need to do is get you off this island before the king makes you his bride. I’ll have to figure out the rest later.” He grabbed her hand, running his thumb over the back. “I have to go meet my contact about Alistair. I would take you with me, but you know how skittish he is around anyone but me.”

“I can wait. Just give me the whistle and I’ll find you.”

He grinned and gave a three bar whistle. “That one?”

“That’s the one.”

Tybolt could still smell Auriella on his cloak, and his determination deepened. He had to get her away from here. Widow Maker plodded into the small clearing where he and Auriella usually camped on their way back to Eriroc. He dismounted and tied Widow Maker to a trunk—the horse did not like Gamel, more so than he disliked most.  If he left him free to graze, he’d probably trample the old man.

Tybolt settled on the ground to wait and leaned against a tree. He pulled the knife from his belt, grabbed a broken branch, and began to carve. He was barely aware of what he was carving as his mind wandered, reliving every detail of last night. Auriella’s face began to emerge from the wood. Widow Maker snorted and pawed the ground, alerting him to Gamel’s arrival.

“I hope you brought me something to drink, boy,” Gamel said as he trudged from the trees.

Tybolt stood and grabbed his skin from the saddle, tossing it to the old man.

Gamel took a swig and sputtered. “Water! You give me water?”

“You shouldn’t drink so much, you know. It’ll kill you.”

“Of all the things that could kill me, that is the least of my worries.” Gamel capped the skin and tossed it back to Tybolt. He hobbled over to a tree and leaned against it.

“Where is Alistair?” Tybolt said.

“Ah.” Gamel made a
tsking
noise and shook his finger. “So anxious. I believe we had an agreement. Your time for my information.”

“Are you going to tell me more stories about how Aja didn’t cause the Fracture? I don’t have time for this today.”

“Then you don’t have time for my information.”

Auriella stared out at the waves, enjoying the peace as the sun inched higher in the sky. Her eyes settled repeatedly on the tip of the lighthouse. It saddened her that Tybolt’s family had been lost, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what his life must’ve been like. To be surrounded with such beauty so far from the hatred that had pawed her, she could hardly fathom how different things would’ve been.

The sun warmed her skin, and it was with reluctance that she decided sitting on the edge of a cliff was too conspicuous. Surely Rowan had sent someone after her. She left Fire Dancer to graze—Tybolt had tracked the horse too easily.

She tied the dress around herself the best she could and sliced off the skirt until it was just above her knees. She couldn’t jump from branch to branch in a ball gown. She crossed through the dry grass and climbed the first tree she came to, working her way high into the branches where she could see anyone who came her direction long before they saw her. She leapt to the closest tree, and then the next. Moving through the canopy left no trail to follow.

She wasn’t far into the forest when she heard muffled voices. She scanned the area but saw nothing. There was never anything. She knew it was the thieves, and she had a suspicion as to why they always sounded so muffled and why no one could find them, but it sounded insane.

Then she heard a scream. This was different, farther away and faint. It was male, and her first thought was of Tybolt. She turned her head to the side to listen. Nothing. She got ready to take the next jump when it came again, muffled through the trees. It was too low for Tybolt, but it was familiar. A panic stirred in her stomach and she dropped to the ground, taking off at a full run.

She neared the same clearing she’d left last night and an acrid smell tickled her nostrils. Just over the tips of the trees she saw a smoke trail winding into the sky—black and thick.

She pushed harder, ignoring the branches as they tore at her. She burst into the clearing and found her greatest fear realized. Smoke poured from the windows of her father’s home. A shadow moved inside. She burst into a run then stopped—the shape was too large, too tall. A moment later the outline of a man she never wanted to see again filled the frame of the door and then emerged, shutting the door behind him. Terric saw her immediately and grinned, waving a twisted hello.

She would kill him for this. Auriella took off at full speed, tearing over the meadow grass so fast her feet nearly flew.

“You can kill me or save your father,” Terric called out before she reached him. “The choice is yours.” He stepped to the side of the door, motioning towards it as if he were escorting her into a dance.